


Here Lies the Abyss

by astrariumcatcher



Series: Fickle Fate: Short Stories [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Canonical Character Death, Death, Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Here Lies the Abyss, F/M, Fantasy, Grief/Mourning, Hurt, Internal Conflict, Loneliness, Love, One Shot, Pain, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Here Lies the Abyss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28188885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrariumcatcher/pseuds/astrariumcatcher
Summary: Death. Pain. Reflection.For months, Alistair and Camilla Hawke have been traveling together, alongside their respective lovers. When the Wardens start disappearing, Alistair and Camilla find that their goals intertwine and that Corypheus is behind it. And when the Inquisition comes calling, both of them fight to right the wrongs of the past. Only to find that not everyone gets to go home...Set during and after the quest "Here Lies the Abyss"Part of 'A Drop of Crimson Blood' universe
Relationships: Alistair/Female Tabris (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Anders/Female Hawke
Series: Fickle Fate: Short Stories [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787692
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Here Lies the Abyss

**Author's Note:**

> An exploration of love, grief, and understanding for my Warden and Champion (and their respective love interests) during and after the quest "Here Lies the Abyss"
> 
> I felt that my characters would react very differently during the events of that quest, and there's a lot of potential hurt/heartbreak that happens. Two one-shots (First part revolves around Hawke's death; Second part revolves around Alistair's death)

_‘Did you think you mattered, Hawke? Did you think anything you ever did mattered? You couldn’t even save your city or your Mother. You’ve let your siblings fall into darkness. How could you expect to strike down a god? Anders is going to die, just like your family, and anyone you ever cared about.’_

Those words… what else was she expecting from a demon that preyed on fears? Camilla should have known better than to expect something light, ignorable. Her fears reared up on its legs and drove through her heart. They hurt. Memories of her time in Kirkwall came back in a flood. All of the pain and suffering, the expectations placed upon herself by others. Everything. Their Champion wasn’t invincible, she was just another person, but to convince them of that… It was impossible.

More of her fears echoed throughout, flooding her own senses as well as filling the ears of her companions. Varric turned his gaze, a wordless gesture of comfort and Camilla could only smile. It was a half-hearted little thing, but it was enough to stop him from asking too many questions. There weren’t enough answers that would make any of this okay.

“Of course a fear demon would know where to hurt us most. We must ignore it.”

Those who followed the Inquisitor agreed, their fears had too been on display for all to hear. They knew that to ignore this demon was the only way to stay sane. Too much was on the line for all of them to die now. Especially in the Fade.

•••

She felt a jolt run through her system as a piercing scream filled the area around them. This… _demon_ they fought was dead, and all that was left was to go through the rift. To freedom. To reality… Back to _him_.

Varric was already gone, slipping through the rift after an elven mage and a thick-bearded warrior who claimed to be a Warden. Alistair had smirked at the Warden comment, it was an all-too-knowing look that spoke wonders to those who paid attention. Still, right now, it wasn’t worth the questioning. Not when so much was on the line. To be alive at the end of the day and helping the world heal was something that needed to be done first. 

Camilla sprinted forward, catching herself at the last second when a claw stopped them all. The spider-like creature had woken up from its stupor, blocking their exit. Another claw flanked from the side, and she jumped backwards. Two warriors and a mage… It should be so easy to push through… So easy. 

Alistair pulled the Inquisitor away from a flanking hit, only him to be caught off guard by a second attack. He tumbled to the side, reaching for his shield in a frenzy. Electricity flew from Camilla’s staff, driving the attention away from the warriors on her. She somersaulted forward, more electricity, more energy crackling from her staff and a change in gravity and… there! Room for them to find cover.

“We won’t be able to get past it!” The Inquisitor cried out, peering out at the demon from her hiding spot. Over the weeks, Camilla had gotten to learn more about the leader. Nothing like the stories said, they all butchered her culture and her dislike of the Chantry. How unfortunate, she deserved her story to be told correctly… Not bastardized as the organization liked to do… 

Debris flew over their heads, and in turn a barrier shot up around them. Backed into a corner with nowhere to go. Either they all die or… Or… 

“Go! I’ll cover you!” 

The words left her mouth before she could even process them. Bitter regret lingered in the air until it finally hit her. All the people she cared about, the ones she loved… She’d never see them again with this choice. But no, Camilla couldn’t think like that. They’d be dead for sure if a decision wasn’t made now. A shaky breath left her. Why was she here? To stop Corypheus in any way. To stop a demon. To stop a tragedy. To right a wrong.

Tears welled in her eyes. How badly she wanted to cry, to be selfish, to be a person and not a Champion. Her years in Kirkwall came to mind. She couldn’t afford to be any version of her from back then. Not the girl who tempted fate by using magic and running with the mercenary gangs. Not the girl who rose to the ranks and lived in luxury. She was the girl who fought to protect the mages. She was the one who defied the system. There were many unfair choices, and there wouldn’t be time to weep over them any more. Sacrifice would be made to help the ones who needed it.

Immediately, she sobered up, pulling Alistair and the Inquisitor along with her. A fierceness in her nod, and magic grew in the air. She was ready.

“You don’t have to do this! Let me-” Alistair began, only to be silenced by her eyes. He could see it: her doubt, her anxiety. It was all clear as the day. But behind it all was a determination. She didn’t want a chance to back out. It was now or never.

“ _Promise_ him that it’s not an end.” A smile played on her lips, only to falter when a pathetic breath left her. 

“I’ll tell him, I promise.”

“I’m sorry, Hawke, I-” the Inquisitor began, and was cut short by the smile that stayed on Camilla’s face.

It was in the certainty of that smile, that the Champion ran forward, already conjuring up a spell to catch the demon’s attention. Her breath lingered in the air, the words she whispered echoed long after she had said them. 

“Right then… Here we go.”

Alistair pulled on the Inquistor’s arm, taking the lead as they ran towards the open rift. One last glance at Hawke was all they could spare before focusing all their attention on running and escaping. The words she continued to speak were lost to them as claw after claw picked at the broken rock. Only one sentence lingered long enough for them to hear:

“It is only when you fall that you learn whether or not you can fly… All right. Then we fly!”

The rift consumed them, sending them spiraling back into the land of the living. Camilla’s last words still lingering in the cold air. They were overpowered, cheering and shouting upon their arrival as soon as they fell onto the ground. 

A victory against Corypheus, a victory for the Inquisition. 

One shared look between Alistair and the Inquisitor was enough for them to understand that something precious had been left behind.

•••

Alistair stood on the topmost level of Griffon’s Keep, packing away his equipment and supplies. The journey to Weishaupt would be next.

It had been years since he last saw the capital city, and it was a time that he would rather forget. The First was a challenging person to get along with. And with the discoveries _she_ made throughout the years… Well, there were many secrets. He was a man not to be trusted. 

A set of footsteps came as a surprise to Alistair, and he turned, only to see the Inquisitor. She was no stranger to battle, a fierceness that overpowered her features was her signature look, Alistair had discovered early on. It was a surprise to see that instead of that determination, uncertainty took over instead. 

Hawke was gone. 

“Come to send me off? Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.” Alistair smiled, scratching at the back of his head. He’d heard plenty of whispers after the battle. Distrust. Dislike. Hatred. Was it just the way of the Wardens to piss people off, only to then save them from certain doom? It was a cycle, that was for sure… 

“I… Thank you for the help, Alistair.”

“Right. Well, it’s a Warden’s job to save the world. Demons, darkspawn, I’m equipped for it all.”

Her expression still didn’t change, and it brought upon a frown on his own features. “Hey, listen, you did what you could and had to. Trust me, us Wardens know a thing or two about sacrifice - it’s in the motto. This is a difficult burden, but the grief shouldn’t be disregarded. We have to continue on. For them..”

“We lost Hawke. In such a cruel way… She just… Chose. It’s as if-”

Alistair’s lips formed into a thin line, and at first the only sound he could make was a thoughtful hum. Losing a companion was hard. Losing a companion due to a self-sacrifice, that was even harder. The mixture of emotions it brought, it was something hard to process.

“As much as I’d like to say saving the world gets easier, it doesn’t. There’s loss and fear. I hope the companions you keep, you’re able to treasure. Keep them close.”

The Inquisitor’s demeanor changed, if only slightly. She nodded, a faint smile appearing. Half-hearted and only there to reassure Alistair to drop the conversation if anything. He gladly took the chance to change the subject.

“How’s your friend… Varric? Have you had a chance to talk about the events?”

“Not yet… He wasn’t in the mood to talk… I don’t blame him, it’s easy to-” she sighed, leaning against the railing. For a moment, silence took over. The desert horizon was at the forefront. Empty and unkind, how familiar for a Blight to make a once-beautiful place into… This. But even with the deadly creatures, and the Maker-forsaken sand, there was some semblance of beauty and hope this morning.

“Did you know Hawke very well?” The Inquisitor asked, still staring into the expanse.

“She and I traveled together for a few months. Our research found common ground, and we decided to work together.” He paused. There were four of them… And now there’d be three. “What a horrible shame.” The words left him before he even processed it, and Alistair clamped up. “Listen I-I should head out. There’s still the journey to Weisshaupt, and reports… No doubt your people want to get back to Skyhold.”

“Yeah, the sand’s starting to get on my nerves.” 

There was no comment on his slip up, only laughter about her own words. Alistair paused, digging out something out of his bag. “For you friend. Hawke wanted him to have this… In case of… Well, the unfortunate.”

“I’ll… Give this to him. Thank you.”

She stared at the blank envelope, turning it over in her fingers. Alistair wanted to say more, add more encouragement, or some other notion that he knew what it felt like to have the safety of Southern Thedas on his shoulders. But she had the whole world… And for some odd reason, the role of Inquisitor seemed a lot more lonelier than the position of Warden.

“I…” He paused. Should he…? No… That would be a mistake. She wouldn’t want to be a bigger part of this mess, they had their own troubles to solve first. Selfish… His lips formed into a shaky smile. They had time to be selfish now… 

In the quiet of the morning, Alistair slipped out of the keep. Nothing more to add. He knew that with time, the wounds of the past would heal. The scar would stay, but it would no longer bleed.

•••

News of the event arrived a week later in the form of two letters. One letter for Scarlet, and the other, for Anders.

Hers spoke of hope, a well-wish and also information to pass along. Anders’ spoke of… 

At first, he made no sound when the letter was given to him. He read in silence, letting the page fall to the ground. It fluttered, brushing the stone floor. The silence persisted, accompanying the hollow hum of the darkness around them. And then, as if the weight of the world finally beared down on him, a scream tore from his lips.

Grief had all shapes and forms. Scarlet had seen many versions of it throughout her life. There was sometimes the anger that came with it, the sadness, the envy, the heartbreak. Sometimes, there was relief, joy, pleasure. And sometimes… There was nothing.

For Anders, his grief took the form of agony. 

Flares of blue sparked against his skin, the letter crumpled in his hands when he hit the ground. Anger and sadness filled the air, it was said between sobs, all of these emotions were clear. But one emotion lingered, one that Scarlet could hardly sense but knew was there: Regret. She didn’t need to read what was inside the content of those letters, what caused this reaction… She always knew that their line of work would result in this outcome. That only one person would return home.

And for Anders, it wasn’t going to be the right person.

•••

Weeks passed. Alistair arrived at their campsite, the one nestled within the belly of old ruins. There was the quiet, the occasional hum of the Deep Roads. So close, and yet so far away from all that darkness. For once, he was glad they were here, away from all the terror happening above ground. At least darkspawn were a straightforward threat… Well, they were for the most part.

She was there, sorting through a pile of papers, a collection of letters and notes they had shared with one another. All their memories, stored inside those words. His heart felt full, and in that moment all he wished to do was run into her arms. It had been so long, much too long.

“You’re back.” There was a smile in her voice as the whispered words made it to his ears. Alistair couldn’t help but move forward, towards her, towards all she represented. His happiness. He was here, alive and okay-

The thought of Camilla crossed his mind, stopping Alistair in his tracks. Anders. He was also here… Somewhere in that darkness. Another emotion awaited him when he saw Alistair… And it wasn’t a good one. It would be the realization that Hawke was gone forever.

“He’s taking a walk,” Scarlet continued. Her brow crooked up as she stood, already reading his thoughts as if it was nothing. Nothing had changed. She was still the same wonderful, beautiful person who knew him like the back of her hand. “Come on. Let’s get you settled in.”

He couldn’t help but smile. He was still alive, still with her. Perhaps it was divine intervention that saved them. But Alistair wasn’t afraid to call it what it truly was: dumb luck. Happenstance that he made it out of the Fade. In all honesty, they should have all died. It was an impossible situation.

“What did the First say?” Scarlet asked, pulling out a backpack of supplies. She fumbled through, pulling out a thick blanket.

“The usual. Reprimands, lots of lectures, confusion. Oh, and questions. So many questions. Did you know he-” A lull in his words as he stopped mid-sentence, staring at something in the darkness. He could sense them, that lingering taint. Not darkspawn, but-

“Alistair.” Anders whispered, approaching the light. His appearance was haggard, hardly taken care of. It was a far cry from the man he’d seen a month ago. His voice was quiet, nonexistent, hollow. The echo in the ruin did nothing to help his voice grow. This was a different man. A broken man. “It’s good to see you.” 

“Anders,” Alistair smiled, trying to hide the pity in his tone. “It’s good to see you too. Ho-How are you holding up?” He shot a look to Scarlet, unsure of how to handle the situation. Seeing Anders so early, it wasn’t something he was expecting. 

“I’m holding on by a string.” That whisper was still in the air, and it was clear that Anders had barely spoken in weeks. “I have so little to hold onto…”

Alistair opened his mouth, only to clamp it back up. This was a grieving man. A man suffering through his agony with no solid foundation. He could only see his past self in Anders, grieving over Duncan. It wasn’t foolish, it wasn’t worth dismissing, but how odd for him to be on the other side. To see the pain and be able to do nothing. 

Losing the love of your life had to be unbearable… He glanced over at Scarlet, her features furrowed and concerned as she watched Anders with that careful gaze. Alistair didn’t have to experience it, he already knew how he’d feel. Heartbroken… Torn… Empty.

“She - Camilla - wanted me to tell you something. Well, actually, it was something she wanted me to promise,” Alistair coughed, the words sticking to his tongue. Why was it so difficult to say her last wish? Perhaps it was the response he was unsure of. Would it help Anders? Or, ultimately, would it hurt him even more? Maybe - just maybe - they’d be the exact words he’d need to hear. “She promised that this isn’t an end.”

A humorless laugh left him. “Of course. Ever the optimist.”

“A realist.” Scarlet spoke, correcting Anders with ease. “She was a realist, even when times seemed grim. Think back to all her words. When have they ever been empty promises? There was nothing about everyone surviving, living glorious lives. There weren’t ever lies. Camilla knew the cost. And she’s right. This isn’t an end…” She paused. “Perhaps it’s time to go back?”

“Kirkwall.”

“You have family there.”

“Family?” Anders paused, the barest of smiles showing on his face. “Yes… I do… Have family.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “I-I need time to think.”

She nodded, and with the quick snap of her fingers, an aging hound sprung up with the liveliness of a pup. Alistair had to wonder how long that dog would last… It’d already been a good ten years, another veteran of the Blight. 

“For company,” Scarlet said with a smile when Anders shot her a questioning look. “Besides, he needs the exercise. It’s all right, go on.”

A small nod, and he complied, leaving her and Alistair alone. Without a second of hesitation, Scarlet sat herself down by the fire, letting a gloved hand run through her hair. When she finally looked over, an emotion akin to defeat was written in her eyes. “We haven’t made much progress.” 

“Much has happened.” Alistair took his place by her side. His knees pressed up to his chin, watching the embers flicker up to the ceiling. It’d been so long since they last sat together. Nothing, absolutely nothing was going to pull them apart now. But for Anders… “Do you think he’ll be fine?”

“It won’t ever be the same… But what I do know is that it’ll be better for him to be around people who miss Camilla just as much as he does.”

She took his hand in hers, staring out at the dancing flames before them. Alistair glanced over, watching as her face lit up. 

He was a lucky man to have the chance to be by her side again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a kudo, or even a comment. I'd really appreciate it c:
> 
> So here's a practice piece I've been working on-and-off for a couple months now, part one is finally finished. I'm more pleased with it than I thought I would be, so hopefully you'll enjoy as well! 
> 
> These characters are actually my canon-route - Even the nameless Inquisitor! (She has a name, but I haven't decided whether or not I want to change it, so it's still in the air). All three of them are getting their own stories, but for right now, you all get small snippets of their personality and actions.
> 
> Stay tuned for the next part!


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